Where is Guy Fawkes when you Need Him?

In case you aren’t familiar with my main shit stain Guy Fawkes, he was the mastermind behind the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 in England. Keeping a long story short, Guy dug a tunnel underneath Parliament and filled it with kegs of gunpowder with the intention of igniting it during a parliamentary session. Fast-forward 400 years, and this is the best idea I can think of to save America from itself. To say the American government is currently a clusterfuck is like saying World War II was a donnybrook. If you honestly think that one of these two parties full of utter and complete ass clowns is the “answer”, then you are either batshit insane or your I.Q. is < 85. Bush had the White House and both houses of Congress for years, and guess what they accomplished.........bitching profusely that Democrats were obstructionists. Obizzle has the White House and has had both houses of Congress since he's been there. Guess what they've accomplished.......bitching profusely that Republicans are obstructionists. Fuck 'em all, I'm done. I just hope that when I'm old and gray and rocking my porch swing on the front deck of the retirement home, that I still have enough heart left to shout obscenities at all the Chinese backpackers and exchange students who are here to "soak up our quaint culture".

I hate nothing more than when people respond “We will not lose our place of international prominence, this is America”. I’m sure no one ever said that in Mesopotamia. Or Egypt. Or in Ancient Greece. Or any Romans. Or Spaniards. Or the French. And I know the sun never actually set on the British Empire either.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special.
I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect.
After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside.
I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show.
Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day.
The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years.
So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.